Pain and Terror: Hamilton AU
by Emberlightwings
Summary: Chaos. Undiluted chaos. That and a lot of angst stuff. And fighting. And immigrants. And kids.
1. The beginning

It was the day after the election of 1800, and, wanting to distance himself from both the city's prying eyes and Aaron Burr's fury, Alexander Hamilton had decided to go for a walk by himself along the Hudson River. Lost in thought, the US secretary failed to pay attention to where he was putting his feet and stumbled on a tree root. Thrusting his hands out in front of him, Alexander managed to catch himself before he could hit the ground. Getting to his feet, he muttered, "I really should watch where I'm walki-" With a start, Alexander realized that his right hand and sleeve were stained red with blood. But what was strange was... that he wasn't bleeding, this blood wasn't his. Looking down, Alexander saw a small pool of blood on the ground, and, looking forward along the trail, he noticed more dark red splatters. Now moving cautiously, the former revolutionary started to follow the trail of blood. He didn't get very far before the blood splatters seemed to veer to the side. Stopping, Alexander followed the red liquid with his eyes until it came to a stop at a shape hidden in the shadows of the trees. "Wh..." Edging forward, Alexander realized he was looking at a grown man lying unmoving in the grass.

Yet what surprised him was the old Revolutionary War uniform he was wearing.

"Er... Sir? Are you alright?" When no response was given, Alexander placed a hand on the man's shoulder and gently shook him, "Sir?" When there was no answer, Alexander gave up and turned the man over to get a better look at him. What he saw made him gasp with horror, his heart stopping momentarily.

_"LAFAYETTE?!"_

Stumbling backwards onto the ground, Alexander stared at the Frenchman with wide eyes, his heart hammering against his chest. Breathing hard, the former general rose to his feet and dashed to Lafayette's side. "Laf, wake up!" Grasping his shoulder, Alexander roughly shook the Frenchman in an almost desperate attempt to bring him back into consciousness. "Come on old friend, open your eyes." Abruptly, Alexander stopped shaking Lafayette as a memory from the war burst into his head. Cold water. If one of your men ever falls unconscious, use cold water to help them wake him up. Washington had told him to remember that lesson before he'd given Alexander his first command of soldiers. Thank you, Washington! Straightening himself, Alexander turned away from Lafayette's unmoving, blood- covered body and ran as fast as his legs could carry him back to where he'd left his horse at the beginning of the trail. Horses may not be allowed on the trail. He reflected. But I don't care. I have to help Lafayette. Mounting rapidly, Alexander nudged his horse hard in the side and steered her onto the trail "Come on Nevis! Hurry up girl!" He urged, pressing his heels harder into the pinto's side and goading her into a canter. "Whoa Nev." Nearing where he'd found Lafayette, Alexander pulled back on the reins, stopped Nevis, and tied her rapidly to a tree. Grabbing the cloth he used to clean off the saddle, Alexander raced to the edge of the Hudson river. Plunging the cloth into the cold water, Alexander stood up and raced back to Lafayette. Kneeling beside the Frenchman, Alexander placed the wet cloth on his forehead then he turned his attention to the blood covering Lafayette's body. Grabbing his shoulders, Alexander carefully dragged Lafayette into the sunlight. Leaning his old friend against a tree trunk, Alexander got a good look at him for the first time. What he saw made his stomach flip over.

Lafayette was covered in wounds, the tears on his uniform revealing what seemed to be numerous deep bite marks from some kind of animal. As if that weren't enough, Alexander could see a particularly bad bite in Lafayette's side which was bleeding heavily. Moving to the former general's side, Alexander took off his cloak and pressed it against the wound on his side in an attempt to soak up at least some of the blood. Almost as if in response to Alexander's efforts to help, Lafayette began to stir, moaning softly and gritting his teeth in pain. "Laf?" Looking up, Alexander saw the Frenchman opening an eye a slit. Almost immediately, Lafayette's eye closed and he went rigid, an agonized moan escaping from his throat. "Lafayette! Relax, it's okay!" As if Alexander's voice did something, Lafayette immediately froze and his eyes flew open, his wild gaze resting on the U.S. Treasurer.

"Alex-"

"Are you o-" Before Alexander could finish his sentence, Lafayette lurched forward and pulled him into a tight hug. Caught off guard, Alexander froze, his eyes wide. Slowly, he let himself relax and rested his hand on Lafayette's back. Much to Alexander's surprise, Lafayette began crying softly, his body shaking. "Hey, hey, it's okay." He murmured, gently rubbing the former revolutionary's back, not caring that Lafayette's blood was staining his clothing.

After a short while, Alexander pulled away from his friend, worry filling his mind as he gazed at the Frenchman. He looked like a mere shell of who he'd been the last time Alexander had seen him; his eyes, once blazing with the fire of revolution were now dull and lifeless. "Laf, I don't know what happened to you or why you're here, but one thing I do know is that you need a doctor," Alexander looked down at his friend's deep wounds, "And fast." Lafayette gritted his teeth and pressed Alexander's cloak harder against his side. Rising to his feet, Alexander walked to the Frenchman's side, "Can you stand?" Lafayette nodded, apparently in too much pain to speak. Bending, Alexander carefully draped Lafayette's free arm around his neck. "Up you go." He slowly stood up before walking slowly in the direction of his horse, Lafayette leaning heavily against him, his face drawn with pain. "Hang in there, old friend, you'll be okay. I'm not gonna lose my chance to save someone. Not this time."


	2. A friend in need

After managing to get Lafayette to his horse, help the Frenchman into the saddle, mount himself, then race home at a full gallop while ensuring his friend didn't fall off, Alexander finally pulled Nevis to a stop in front of his home. Dismounting, Alexander turned and helped Lafayette off his horse as smoothly and quickly as he could without straining his friend's wounds. "Eliza! Eliza, open the door!" Struggling towards the front door, Alexander called for his wife, he could feel Lafayette losing strength rapidly. "Stay with me, Gilbert." He murmured, shifting to take more of the injured man's weight. "ELIZA!"

The front door flew open and Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton hurried out of the house. "Alexander what-" Eliza's eyes flew wide at the sight of the now nearly- unconscious Lafayette. "What happened to him?!"

"I don't know, but we need to get Dr. Hosack over here as fast as possible." Staggering through the door, Alexander walked slowly down the hall and into one of the empty guest rooms. Once he had set Lafayette onto the bed and ensured that his cloak was pressed tightly against his side, Alexander turned to Eliza, his eyes glittering with worry and tension. "I have to go get the doctor. But I don't want to leave Lafayette alone in case he loses consciousness-"

"Go Alexander. I'll try to keep him awake," Eliza glanced at the blood-soaked cloak pressed against Lafayette's side, "And meanwhile get something cleaner to staunch the blood flow."

Alexander let out a sigh of relief, "Thank you, Betsey. I'll be back as fast as possible." That being said, Alexander spun on his heel, sprinted out the door, and practically threw himself in Nevis' saddle. "Go, Nevis!" He urged, nudging the mare in the sides. Nevis needed no more encouragement, picking up on Alexander's hurried mood, the pinto shot forward so fast that Alexander was nearly unseated. With his horse at a full gallop, Alexander arrived at the family doctor's house much faster than he'd anticipated. Stopping Nevis, Alexander leapt out of the saddle and up the stairs. Only then did he truly realize where he was.

Philip…

Alexander staggered backwards, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as his mind seemed to fill with the painful memories of his son's death.

Philip, no... No!

Alexander sank to the ground, his vision blurring with tears as guilt and grief tore through him, as hot as fire. Breathing hard, Alexander forced himself to regain control of his emotions and push the memories away.

Focus Hamilton, focus.

Taking several deep breaths, Alexander pushed himself to his feet and knocked on the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Alexander burst into his house, Dr. Hosack close behind him, and ran to the room where he'd put Lafayette. "Eliza! I'm-" Alexander was cut off by Lafayette whimpering deliriously, his head lolling from side to side. "Laf!" Racing to the Frenchman's side, Alexander grabbed his shoulders and shook him roughly, "Wake u-!"

"NON!" With a sound somewhere between a screech and a sob, Lafayette jolted awake.

"Laf...?" Alexander's worry deepened when he saw the tears streaming down the former general's face. "What's wrong?" Lafayette didn't respond, only looked at Alexander with such horrified, grief-stricken eyes that the U.S. treasurer was not surprised when the Frenchman doubled over in tears. Watching, Dr. Hosack glanced questioningly at Alexander, who simply shook his head and rubbed Lafayette's back as he broke down. "Easy there old friend." He soothed, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling Lafayette into a hug. Shaking violently, Lafayette returned the embrace and sobbed into Alexander's shoulder. "Easy, easy." Despite the hundreds of questions racing through his head, Alexander knew this was his chance. As he comforted Lafayette, he nodded at Hosack then at the deep bite on his friend's side. Thankfully, Eliza seemed to have gotten the bleeding to stop and had wrapped a bandage around the Frenchman's wound.

Hosack hesitated, "You are aware that a wound this deep requires stitches, correct?"

Lafayette, still holding on to Alexander, stiffened and choked out a shaky, "Merde." followed by a hasty and watery greeting to the doctor.

Alexander then took a deep breath and nodded, "Yeah, I am."

"Is that alright with you, Mr. Marquis?" Hosack asked.

"Oui. I trust Alexandre with my life. Do as 'e asks, please." Lafayette responded tightly, his accent stronger than before.

"As you wish, good sir." Dr. Hosack complied, taking out his stitching kit.

Alexander grabbed a thick piece of leather from his pocket and offered it to his friend, who gladly took it and bit down on it. It was going to be a long day.

Later that day, after Dr. Hosack had been paid and left, and Lafayette had drifted into a fitful sleep, Alexander was, as usual, writing in his study when Angelica came in to tell him that dinner was ready.

"Thank you, Angelica," Alexander responded distractedly, "Tell Eliza I'll be right down."

His sister- in- law sighed.

"Alexander."

"Mm?" Alexander hummed, scanning over his papers.

Angelica groaned and yanked the papers out of Alexander's hands. "We're all waiting for you at the table."

"Wha- Oh! Dinner, right!"

"Yeah. Dinner. Now get yourself down there Hamilton."

"I'm going, I'm going! Geez Angie, no need to push me down the stairs!" Alexander teased.

"Oh, believe me, I will if I have to." Angelica retorted, smiling.

Alexander chuckled and walked into the family dining room. Taking his seat at the table, Alexander swept his gaze affectionately over his family. Yet, his happiness evaporated like mist when his eyes came to rest on Philip's empty chair in front of him. He looked away, not wanting to draw up the painful memories associated with his eldest son's death lest he break down in front of everyone like he'd done so many times before. Glancing sideways, Alexander saw Eliza gazing sadly at him, her own eyes misted with loss and concern. "I'm okay." He answered his wife's unasked question and forced a small smile. "Now, what's for dinner?"


	3. Guns, ships and brothers

"Come on Laf, you gotta eat something!" Alexander stared at his friend in exasperation.

"Je n'ai pas faim." Lafayette murmured from where he sat gazing dully out the window.

Alexander pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, "Voulez-vous que je vous fourre de la nourriture dans la gorge? Parce que si tu ne manges pas, c'est exactement ce que je vais faire."

"Non, you wouldn't." Lafayette retorted softly without turning around.

"Oui. I would. Marquis, you haven't eaten for over two days and I'm worried." Alexander growled, concern for his friend making him irritable. The Frenchman didn't reply, and after a few moments, Alexander let out his breath in a deep sigh, his irritation evaporating. He was about to give up and leave when an idea crept into his mind.

Walking over to stand beside Lafayette, he allowed a small smile to cross his face.

"How does a ragtag volunteer army in need of a shower, somehow defeat a global superpower?"

Immediately, surprise and recognition flashed across Lafayette's face and he whipped his head up to stare at Alexander. Smiling, Alexander gazed back at him with an eyebrow raised.

Slowly, a small smile crossed Lafayette's face.

"How do we emerge victorious from the quagmire? Leave the battlefield waving Betsy Ross' flag higher?"

"Yo! Turns out we have a secret weapon! An immigrant you know and love who's unafraid to step in!"

Alexander's smile grew wider as Lafayette laughed lightly and continued the song that Alexander and the rest of the squad had made up for him, his eyes glowing.

"He's constantly confusin', confoundin' the British henchmen. Ev'ryone give it up for America's favorite fighting Frenchman!"

"LAFAYETTE!"

Startled, both Lafayette and Alexander whirled around to see none other than Hercules Mulligan at the doorway, his deep brown eyes sparkling.

"Your go, Laf." The tailor ginned, coming to stand with the other two immigrants. Lafayette took a deep breath, then…

"I'm taking this horse by the reigns making redcoats redder with bloodstains-"

"LAFAYETTE!"

Hercules and Alexander shouted out in usion. Luckily, the three of them were alone in the house as Eliza, Angelica and the children had gone to visit a friend.

"And I'm never gonna stop until I make 'em drop and burn 'em up and scatter their remains,

I'm-"

"LAFAYETTE!"

"Watch me engagin' em! Escapin' em! Enragin' em! I'm—"

"LAFAYETTE!"

By now all three men had huge grins on their faces and were trying to hold in their laughter so they could finish the song.

"I go to France for more funds-"

"LAFAYETTE!"

Alexander's chest was aching from holding in his laughter; yet he couldn't stop from sniggering as Lafayette said his last solo line before the three of them cheered out the last verse.

"I come back with more-"

"BUNS AND CHIPS, AND SALAD, BREAD AND DIPS!"

Finally finished, the three men collapsed, roaring with laughter and mirthful tears in their eyes.

"Oh my God. That was... beautiful." Hercules gasped once they had stopped laughing and caught their breaths.

Alexander didn't say anything, he couldn't. He was lying face down on the bed, still chuckling.

"Hey, Alex?" Lafayette wheezed, "I'll have something to eat now."

"Seriously, Laf?!"


	4. A painful tale

After causing a laughing and rapping fit for himself and his friends, Alexander ended up inviting both Lafayette and Hercules to eat. Having already eaten, Alexander gave his two companions some of the still fresh leftovers from yesterday's dinner and left to feed Nevis and the family's older gelding, Crovis. As he walked toward the horses' paddock, Alexander whistled sharply. Nevis' shrill whinny greeted him in response. Turning a corner, Alexander saw Nevis and Crovis waiting for him at the fence, their ears pricked forward eagerly. "Hey Nev, Cro." He murmured, gently stroking each horse's muzzle. "How 'bout some breakfast, hm?" His horses following him, Alexander strode to the tack room- which also served as the food storage room-, filled two large buckets with horse food before dumping it into the feed trough, dumped a large armful of hay beside it, refilled the water trough, then opened the gate to let Nevis and Crovis eat. While the horses ate, Alexander looked them over and got out some brushes to clean them off as it was obvious that they'd rolled in the dirt. Purposefully keeping himself busy, Alexander didn't notice Hercules and Lafayette coming out of the house until Hercules spoke from behind him.

"Is that Crovis?"

Alexander jumped, startled, and turned around to look up at the former spy, who was significantly taller than he was.

"Quit scarin' me!" He yelped, his heart skipping a beat.

"Sorry!" Hercules smiled sheepishly.

Alexander huffed, "It's fine. And before you ask again, yes, that's Crovis."

Hercules whistled, "Man, that's one ancient horse! Haven't you had him since the war?"

"The end of it, yes. I'm surprised the old man's still alive to be honest." Alexander replied as he finished brushing Nevis. "So, while we're on the subject of horses, wanna see something Nevis taught me?"

"Nevis... Taught you?" Lafayette blinked in confusion. "What would that be?"

Alexander glanced back at the Frenchman, a faint smile on his face. "Just you wait." Walking out to the paddock, the U.S. treasurer grabbed a wooden ball and whistled. Soon enough, Nevis came trotting out of the stable with Crovis close behind her.

"Watch." Alexander told Hercules and Lafayette, "She loves this."

Throwing the ball past the mare, Alexander and his friends watched as Nevis' head jerked up, ears pricked, and trotted to where the ball had landed. Curiously nosing the wooden sphere, Nevis then grabbed it in her teeth and cantered back to Alexander, Lafayette and Hercules. Dropping the ball in Alexander's hand, the pinto backed up, her tail whisking in excitement while she nickered repeatedly and watched the former general intently. Smiling, Alexander locked eyes with the mare.

"You want the ball?"

Nevis whinnied, her foreleg pawing the ground in anticipation.

"You want the ball Nev? You want it? Then go get it!" Drawing his arm back, Alexander flung the sphere as far as he could while Nevis chased after it.

Turning to his friends, Alexander chuckled at the awestruck look on their faces.

"You sure that's not a dog? I've never seen a horse do that before." Lafayette said after Alexander had handed him the ball to throw for Nevis.

Alexander smiled. "I'm sure."

A few hours later Lafayette and Alexander were back in the house. Hercules had left, chased back to his shop by his very angry wife.

"Lafayette, it's not that I don't want you here, but I've been waiting for you to tell me what's up and, I have to admit; I'm worried." Alexander spoke up after a short while, not looking at his friend. "Why are you here? What attacked you?" Out of the corner of his eye, Alexander saw Lafayette stiffen then look away, his gaze darkening. "If you don't want to tell me, that's fine. But... I just want to make sure you're okay while..." The Treasurer trailed off momentarily, "While you know how to say goodbye."

Once again, he was given no response.

Finally, after a long hesitation, Lafayette spoke, his voice merely a whisper.

"I... I was chased out of France."

Alexander, having stood up to leave, looked at the Frenchman and sat back down, listening.

"After all I did for them, my own people chased me out of my home simply on the fact that I was a noble. As if that's the worst thing they could have done." Lafayette's voice quivered and he clenched his hands, anger and sadness sparking in his eyes. "Je vais vous finir Robespierre." He hissed to himself.

"What happened?" Alexander's voice was nothing but a whisper.

"Then... then..." Lafayette stopped as waves of pain rippled through him. Taking a deep, shaky breath, he forced himself to continue. "Before I was chased out, my wife and daughter became ill and the doctors I called to heal them they- they poisoned them." He closed his eyes tightly, forcing back the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. "Thanks to those men, I lost both my dear wife and daughter. I tried taking care of my son but... but a month ago he- he- he was sent to the guillotine and they- they... forced me to watch. My boy-" Horrific memories flooding into his head, the former general hung his head and choked back a sob, unable to continue and about to break down again.

Gazing at his friend, Alexander felt nothing but a powerful understanding and empathy. Shifting closer to his distressed friend, the former revolutionary gently placed his hand on his shoulder, feeling him tremble. "Let it go Laf, it's okay."

The Frenchman moaned softly, obviously trying his hardest to hold back a flood of tears and misery.

"Ça va Lafayette, ça va." Switching into a coyote, Alexander jumped down to the floor and pushed his head under Lafayette's hand. "Gil, please..."

Finally breaking, Lafayette wrapped his arms around Alexander's neck and cried into his fur.

After letting Lafayette grieve for a short while, Alexander felt him calm down, his tight grip on his fur loosening.

"Merci Alex." Once Lafayette had calmed down and wiped his tears, he looked down at the coyote- turned Hamilton, who simply nodded and switched back into a human. Looking closely at his old friend, Lafayette noticed for the first time how much older and wearier he looked. The Caribbean's eyes, once blazing with a seemingly unquenchable ambition and fire, were now dull and blank, rimmed with dark circles. "Alex, what happened to you?"

"N- nothing... I'm fine." The treasurer's voice quivered and he turned away, hiding his face from Lafayette.

Taking note of the tense atmosphere, the Frenchman carefully tired to relax the other immigrant by changing the subject.

"How is John? I haven't heard from him since the war."

In an instant, the former general knew he'd made a mistake in asking that question.

Alexander whipped around, staring at Lafayette with such raw horror on his face that the Frenchman flinched away from him. "Alexander...?"

"John- You don't-? He- he's..." Abruptly, Alexander switched back into a coyote and sprinted out of the room, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Lafayette stayed where he was, he had seen the tears spilling down his friend's face and had a feeling that something had happened to his South Carolinian friend. Just then Alexander re-entered the room, a slip of paper in his jaws. Dropping the paper in Lafayette's hand, the coyote backed away, shaking visibly, his tail clamped between his hind legs.

"Just... read it." He choked out, "I- I'll be outside..."

Blinking in confusion, Lafayette watched him race out of the room, the door slamming shut as he left the house. Hesitantly, the Frenchman unfolded the paper, took a deep breath, and began to read.

"On Tuesday, the twenty-seventh, 1782..."

Lafayette's breath caught in his throat and he dropped to his knees with a strangled cry.

"Mon dieu... John, no."


	5. Fire, fear, and guilt

"Mum, do you think Pa'll like the gift Mrs. Washington got for him?"

Eliza looked down at John Church, her fifth eldest child, and smiled. "I think he'll love it dear." She replied, squeezing the eight- year- old's hand.

"Of course he'll like it." Angelica Schuyler replied from Eliza's other side, "If it's from the Washingtons, he's bound to like it."

"Unless it's being called Son!" James Alexander grinned.

"Hush, respect our father." Alexander Hamilton Jr. chided. "He's been through so much." He glanced at his mother, his gaze darkening as he caught her eyes, "We all have."

Eliza smiled weakly. "Yes." She agreed. "But the best thing we can do is learn to accept, forgive and move on. There may be moments that words don't reach, or when you're in so deep, that it feels easier to just swim down. But, in the end, you have to learn to live with the unimaginable. There will be no replacement for what you've lost, but with time, and someone by your side, you can learn how to say goodbye." Eliza closed her eyes, a mixture of sadness and peace filling her.

"We'll never forget Peggy. Or Philip, or Daddy." Angelica murmured, gripping her sister's hand. "People we care about may die, but while we live, we can tell their story and ensure they live on in the nation's memory."

Eliza nodded, absently stroking John's hair.

That was when they smelled the smoke.

"Oh dear, that doesn't seem good." Eliza murmured, "I hope everything's ok."

"I don't know Mum, I have a weird feeling something's wrong." AJ looked worriedly in the direction the smoke scent was coming from.

"Alex, watch out!" Seizing the collar of his coat, the eldest Schuyler yanked the boy backwards before he could be hit by a cart rocketing past him.

"Thanks Aunt Angie..." AJ panted, looking more surprised than frightened.

"Are you alright dear?!" Eliza gasped, her eyes wide and frightened.

"I'm fine, don't worry. But... Mum, that was Uncle Hercules. I think something's wrong... he looked pretty scared."

Elizabeth blinked, yet before she could say anything, a familiar voice cut through the smoke scented air.

"BETSEY?!"

Eliza spun around to see her husband behind her, mounted on Nevis, with Lafayette mounted on Crovis behind him.

"Betsey, what are you doing here?!" Alexander leapt off his horse and raced to his wife, who backed up a step upon seeing the panic- stricken look on his face.

"Dear, what's wrong-?"

"There's a huge fire downtown and it's spreading! You need to get far away from here!"

"Pa... You're scaring me..." John Church whimpered, gripping his mother's hand.

Alexander sighed and placed his hand on his son's shoulder, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you son, but if you stay here any longer, you'll be hurt." His eyes shimmered with fear. Turning to Angelica and Eliza, he murmured, "Go to the Hudson. If I don't meet you there within half an hour, then go home. I'll meet you there once this is all over."

Eliza grasped her husband's hand as he turned to leave, her eyes glittering with fear, "Alexander, please, stay alive. Stay alive for me. Do whatever you must but stay alive. I couldn't bear to lose you too."

Turning, the treasurer gently kissed his wife's forehead, "My Betsey, I will come back. I promise you. Now go, please." Mounting once more, Alexander kicked Nevis in the sides and took off in the direction of the fire.

"Come on, let's go." Grabbing her sister's hand, Angelica, Eliza, and the children whirled around and hurried in the direction of the Hudson river.

"Alexander, Lafayette! Over here!"

At Hercules' call, both men pulled their horses to a halt and jumped off. Racing to the Irishman, they found themselves directly in front of a building consumed in enormous flames, people screaming and running to escape the intense heat.

Alexander stared. The world around him faded into the distance as his head flooded with images of burning, flattened buildings and dead bodies floating in black ocean water... and standing in the middle of it all was a boy who, among everything else that had happened to him in his short life, was now left without a home. A single word made it past his lips, so quietly that not a soul heard it.

"Hurricane."

"What can we do?!" Lafayette yelled over the screams.

"One of you get the people together and move them away from here. The longer they stay here the more their fear will affect others!"

"I'll do it!" Lafayette turned on his heel and rapidly remounted Crovis before turning and galloping away.

Hercules turned urgently to Alexander, and only then noticed him staring in unblinking, blank terror at the fire. "Hamilton!" Hercules seized him by the shoulders and shook him. "Snap out of it man! I need you!"

Alexander's attention snapped back to Hercules. "What?"

"I need you to help me! There are still people in there!" Hercules pointed to the burning building.

Alexander stiffened when he heard screams coming from within the burning building. He squashed down the fear rising in his chest and nodded at Hercules, eyes fierce.

"Let's go."

Dousing themselves in water to avoid being burned alive, they ran into the flames. They were surprised to find themselves in a clearing after just a few feet.

"HELLO?! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?!" Alexander called out as loudly as he could before lapsing into a coughing fit.

"IF ANYONE'S IN HERE, WE NEED YOU TO CALL OUT TO US SO WE CAN HELP YOU!" Hercules boomed, his voice nearly as loud as the roar of the flames themselves.

"Over here! Help us!"

Hearing a voice, albeit faint from the flames, Alexander nudged Hercules' arm, "Over there!"

Dodging the fallen beams on the ground, the former revolutionaries emerged into another, much smaller clearing, and found themselves staring down at Aaron Burr and James Madison.

"Well, if it isn't Aaron Burr, sir." Despite the situation, Hercules smirked, his eyes gleaming with dislike.

"Cut it Mulligan, this is not the time!" Burr rasped, his voice hoarse from smoke inhalation.

"Herc! Get over here!"

The tailor turned to see Alexander crouching next to Madison, who was lying still on the ground with his eyes closed.

"He's stuck!" The former general was pushing hard on a thick wooden beam lying across the new State secretary's legs. "And I can't get him out!"

"'Scuse me-!" Grabbing the beam, Hercules lifted it high enough to allow Alexander to pull Madison out.

Once he'd gotten the Virginian somewhat conscious and on his feet -letting him lean against him to take the extra weight off his most injured leg- Alexander nodded to Hercules- who had draped a now passed out Burr over his shoulders- and the two of them began moving as fast as possible toward the exit.

Hearing panicked voices outside, both Hercules and Alexander quickened their pace and, coughing, burst out of the building.

"Alex! Herc! Mes Amis, are you alright?!" As soon as Hercules and Alexander had gotten well away from the flames, Lafayette raced to their sides, Nathaniel Pendleton close behind him.

"We're... fine. Thanks." Hercules wheezed hoarsely while Lafayette grabbed Burr, slid him off his shoulders and sat him in the cart that the tailor had brought.

"Ham?" Lafayette and Hercules turned to the Caribbean.

Seeing him sway on his feet, his eyes glazed over with exhaustion, Hercules knew in an instant that his friend had passed his limit.

Either that or he'd breathed in way too much smoke.

"I'm fine." Alexander croaked, "Jus'- get Madison and Burr outta here."

Nathaniel nodded silently and took Madison before sitting him in the cart. Then, much to Alexander's surprise, Hercules picked him up and put him in the cart as well.

"Wha-" Alexander hadn't even finished a single word before Nathaniel jumped into the front seat, cracked the whip, and took off with Hercules and Lafayette following behind on horseback.

Finally feeling the cart come to a stop, the Caribbean staggered out and over to a nearby tree. His head was whirling, making him feel as if the world was spinning out of control- the ride in the cart hadn't helped with that-, and his stomach was cramping painfully. Leaning heavily against the trunk, he doubled over and started vomiting black slime.

Watching, Hercules exchanged a worried glance with Lafayette and Nathaniel. Rarely had he seen Alexander look so weak. In all the years he'd known him, Hercules had only seen Alexander at what he'd thought was his lowest point, both emotionally and physically, a few- perhaps 4 or 5- times. Not counting when Philip died.

"Poor man." He murmured to himself.

"Oui… But he is strong. He will survive." Lafayette replied, overhearing.

"May I... talk to him?"

At Aaron Burr's voice, all three men spun around and stared at him.

"Why? Ever since he nominated Jefferson over you, you've been out for his blood." Hercules growled once he'd realized that he wasn't seeing things.

Burr flinched, "Is it that obvious-?"

"Obvious. Obvious he says. Oh no, it's not obvious at all! What're ya talkin' about? Tsk, yeah, right. Everyone knows how badly you want Alex dead." Hercules hissed, a faint Irish accent laced into his voice. He was furious.

"Herc, S'il vous plaît. I think that's enough." Lafayette placed a warning hand on the Irishman's shoulder and turned to Aaron.

Though the Frenchman's tone was more receptive, his eyes were as cold as ice.

"Yes Burr, you can go try and talk with him. But it will be his decision whether or not he'll listen."

"I... I know."

Walking over to stand by Alexander, who was now sitting against the tree- exhaustion and grief evident in his large eye bags and graying hair- Aaron quietly settled onto the ground next to him and looked ahead, avoiding eye contact.

"Thanks for finding Madison and I in that fire."

"I wasn't alone."

"Even so, thank you."

"Mm."

"...I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything. And for being a total dunce."

"Not funny Mr. Vice President."

"... Sorry. Uhm-"

"What do you want Burr?"

"... I'm sorry about Philip. He was a good kid."

"..."

"Hey... are you okay? Alexander?"

"...It's my fault... Pip n- never deserved to die! Everything's m- my fault!"


	6. The wrath of a grieving father

"It's my fault... Pip n- never deserved to die! Everything's m- my fault!"

Burr stared at Alexander, confused. "What do you mean?"

Alexander hugged his legs closer to his chest and, tears filling his eyes, buried his face in his hands.

Aaron furrowed his eyebrows, rising to his feet. "Hamilton, listen to me. What did you mean when you said Philip died because of you?"

The only response he received from the Caribbean was a muffled sob.

"Alexa-"

"Monsieur Burr, may I suggest that you leave him be?" Lafayette's stiff voice came from behind Burr.

"I just wanted to try and help..."

"I'd say you've already helped enough." The Frenchman growled. "You were about to challenge him to a duel, were you not?"

Burr cringed, "Well, yes but... he and Mulligan saved my life today, why would I-"

"Guys... Please. Don't fight." Alexander shakily got to his feet and wiped his eyes. "I'm fine." He turned to Burr, "Thank you for trying to help but... I just need to be alone."

"Alex, tu es sûr? Je peux t'accompagner si tu veux."

Alexander sniffed, "Non, ça va. J'ai juste besoin de temps pour réfléchir." He looked at Lafayette and Burr's concerned faces. "Really. I'm fine."

"C'mon Laf, Burr, let's go." Hercules walked up to the three men and looked at Alexander with sadness and sympathy in his eyes. Once Lafayette and Aaron had gone back to the cart, the tailor faced Alexander, who'd turned away. "There's people here for you y'know. You're not alone." The Caribbean didn't respond, only let out a shaky breath and started walking away.

"It's quiet uptown..." Alexander's voice cracked as he walked through the charred streets of uptown New York, far past caring if people saw the tears rolling down his face.

"Philip, you would like it uptown, it's quiet uptown..." He paused, a soft sob escaping his throat. "If I could spare your life, my son... If I could spare your life for mine, you'd still be here, and that would be enough." Alexander staggered against a light pole, his sobs growing stronger. Slumping to the ground, the former revolutionary buried his face in his hands, tears dripping onto the dirt road.

"Pip... I-I'm so so sorry..."

"Mr. Hamilton?"

After a few minutes, a man's unfamiliar voice came from Alexander's side, and a hand was placed on his shoulder.

Stiffening, the Caribbean forced himself to stop crying and wiped his eyes. Then he looked up at the man and his heart seemed to turn to stone.

"George Eacker."

Alexander's voice came out as hard as ice as he stood to face the man who'd killed his son. "What're you doing here?"

Eacker frowned, his eyes narrowing. "I saw that you were upset and wanted to try and help." He crossed his arms, "But, if you're so ungrateful and cold toward people willing to help, that's your problem. Just like everything else is." He added with a sneer.

Alexander, trembling with grief and rage, took a step towards George, his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. "You killed my son." He snarled, "I suggest you get out of here before I do the same to you."

Eacker scoffed. "Oh, I'm so scared! This creole bastard is threatening to hurt me, how terrifying!" He rolled his eyes. "Face it 'sir', your fool son deserved it."

Alexander took another step forward, his anger mounting, "How?! How did he deserve it?! Tell me, Eacker, what did Philip ever do to you?!"

"He embarrassed me in front of my friends and challenged my word." Eacker huffed, "And, as the son of an illegitimate, that naturally means that any Hamilton's word was inferior to mine."

Alexander's temper snapped.

Flinging his fist forward, the Caribbean hit the younger man hard in the jaw, knocking him to the ground. "Don't you DARE say that our word is inferior to yours!" He screamed, eyes blazing. "Nobody's word is worth less than anyone else's! Here I thought you'd have the heart to regret your choices and change, but hell was I wrong!"

In his fury, Alexander shifted into a coyote and sank his teeth deep into Eacker's arm. The younger man screamed in pain, but the taste of blood made Alexander spiral even more out of control. Biting down harder, the coyote- turned Secretary heard the tell- tale crunch of breaking bone at the same time that George let out an agonized scream.

"STOP! PLEASE! I'M SORRY! PLEA- HELP! HELP ME!"

Alexander snarled and shook his head, his eyes dark with rage and hate.

"What the hell- Hamilton! What are you doing?!" Thomas Jefferson's distinct southern accent came from behind Alexander.

Growling furiously, the coyote felt the new president's hands grabbing at his fur and tearing him away from Eacker. Half snarling and half screaming, Alexander struggled in Jefferson's grasp, trying to get back at the young man.

"Hamilton- Ham- ALEXANDER!" Jefferson struggled to stop the enraged revolutionary. "Alexander, stop! Control yourself!"

Still ignoring Jefferson, Alexander lunged forward, his jaws snapping.

Left with no choice, Jefferson grabbed his cane and smacked it against Alexander's head, knocking him unconscious. Breathing hard, the Virginian rested Alexander- who'd shifted back into a man- on a bench.

Then he turned to George Eacker.

The young man was lying stiffly against the light pole and holding his bleeding and broken arm.

"M-Mr. President-"

"What on Earth did you do to make Hamilton do that to you kid?" Jefferson interrupted, shaking his head.

Eacker looked away, "I told him the truth about his son."

The Virginian's eyes grew wide. "Hang on- you what?! Kid, I don't even talk about his son in front of him and I'm his enemy and the president!" He groaned, rubbing his temple. "Jesus. What'd I do to have to deal with people like this? Go on, get yourself fixed up."

"Yes sir!" Rising to his feet, Eacker staggered away.

"Oh, and kid!" Jefferson called after him.

George turned to him.

"I suggest you leave the Hamiltons and their friends alone if you know what's good for you and your family. They have allies ya don't want to mess with. Consider this a warning."

Eacker snorted, a scowl growing on his face. "Who? You?"

Jefferson smirked. "Nah. I leave him to his own devices and don't mess with his personal life." His voice dropped into seriousness, and he loomed over Eacker, who shrank back. "But Hamilton can be vicious, as you should know by now. He can and will ruin anyone who does him wrong. Do as I suggest, don't provoke him anymore." His smirk returned. "And, have some respect for your president." He nodded and prodded the boy's foot with his cane. "Shoo."

Eacker bolted.

Turning to Alexander, Thomas heaved a sigh, "You'd better not wake up and maul me to death." He muttered. Gingerly picking him up, the president slung Alexander over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and made his way to the Treasurer's home.


	7. The Hamiltons

Alexander Hamilton Jr. sighed and looked down at the blank paper in front of him.

His father had asked him to write a short bedtime story for his younger siblings and so far he'd been sitting at his father's desk for what seemed like forever.

Aaand I still haven't written anything. Ugh. He rubbed his forehead in exasperation. Philip, bro, help me out here will ya?

His older brother had always had a way with words that AJ seemed to have trouble with.

"I need a break." He decided and, placing the quill back into the inkwell, he got to his feet. Leaving his father's study, the young man almost crashed into his aunt Angelica.

"Sorry, Auntie."

"Oh, it's quite alright." She responded with a smile before setting down the large basket of laundry she was carrying. "What're you doing out of the study?"

"Ah, I can't think of anything to write." He answered with a shrug. "Thought I might take a break."

Angelica sighed affectionately, "So like your father."

They glanced at each other then started chuckling.

"Yeah, no. Unfortunately Pops still hasn't learned to take a break." AJ huffed with amusement.

"Indeed.' His aunt agreed, picking the laundry basket back up with a grunt.

"Here, lemme help with that." AJ grabbed half of the load from the basket and followed his aunt out the door, greeting Lafayette as they passed what was now his room.

"Bonjour Monsieur Lafayette."

The Frenchman looked up from folding his new clothing (courtesy of Hercules Mulligan as the only clothes he'd had was the old revolutionary war uniform Alexander's father had found him in) and smiled, "Bonjour jeune homme, Mlle Angelica. I'll be out to help you shortly."

"No worries. We're just going to put out the clothes to dry." Angelica responded.

Finished with his clothes, Lafayette nodded, "Oui. But you and your family took me in without a second thought. It's the least I can do to help you in return."

AJ tipped his head to the side. "Hey, Aunt Angie, is there any more clothes to haul outside?"

The eldest Schuyler huffed. "In a house with ten people in it? Always."

"On it." Lafayette told her, already walking away.

"What?" AJ asked, noticing his aunt staring at him.

She sighed and took his load back before pushing him towards where Lafayette went. "Go help him."

"Oh. OH! Yes ma'am!" He jogged toward Lafayette and heard his aunt's voice behind him.

"Don't call me 'ma'am'! It makes me feel old!"

AJ rolled his eyes and smiled.

"Hé, oncle Laf! Attends-moi!"

Lafayette stopped and turned around to see AJ. jogging up to him.

"'Oncle Laf'? Est-ce vraiment ainsi que vous me voyez, petit lionceau?" He questioned, warmth growing in his chest at what the young man had called him.

AJ blinked up at him with a smile as he walked beside Lafayette. "Oui." He replied calmly, "Pourquoi pas? M. Mulligan est notre Oncle Herc. Il n'a peut-être pas de lien de parenté avec mes parents, mais lui et Pa sont comme des frères. La même chose s'applique avec vous. Alors, que cela vous plaise ou non, vous êtes notre oncle non officiel."

Lafayette stared at the boy and broke into a smile; the first true, genuine smile in what seemed to him like forever. Blinking, the Frenchman looked ahead, eyes shining with sincere joy. "Huh. Eh bien, petit lionceau, je suis honoré d'être ton oncle."

AJ grinned, "Great!" He stopped at the washroom, "Here we are."

"Well then Alexander 2.0, let's get these clothes outside, mm?" Lafayette smirked.

AJ saluted, smiling, "Oui général Lafayette!"

Lafayette laughed, and the grief weighing heavy in his chest seemed to ease just a little.

"You seem to get along well with the kids." Alexander remarked from where he sat on the porch, writing desk in his lap.

Lafayette looked up from his woodcarving. "Mm? Ah, yes, they are good kids." He paused and his voice became softer, "They remind me of my own, actually. James and Georges could have been brothers…"

Alexander sighed, and was opening his mouth to say something when his four- year old son William Hamilton trotted out the door toward him.

"Dada!"

Both Alexander and Lafayette smiled at the child's happy squeal.

Scooping William into his arms, Alexander gently tapped his nose, "Hello there my little lamb. How are you doing this fine day?"

William smiled happily and hugged his father's arm, "Love you, Dada!"

"Awww." Lafayette purred from behind Alexander, who grinned and tickled his son's belly.

William squealed with laughter, "No Dada! Stop it!"

"Alright, alright Willie." Hearing Eliza Hamilton, his youngest child, start crying upstairs, Alexander glanced at William then Lafayette and back again.

"Wanna hold him while I get my daughter?"

The Frenchman nodded and gave William a small smile when Alexander handed him over. "Bonjour petit."

William, momentarily startled by the change in people, quickly recovered and gave Lafayette a large smile, "Bonjour!"

Lafayette's eyebrows shot up in surprise. He looked up at Alexander, "He already speaks French?"

Alexander beamed with pride. "What'd you expect? He's a Hamilton!"

"Ah, of course, of course." Lafayette gazed down at William with soft eyes.

Alexander, seeing that his son was safe and that his friend was happy, smiled and went inside to fetch little Eliza from her crib.

"Veamos aquí ... ¿Funciona bien la Guardia Costera?" It was hours later, and Alexander scanned the papers scattered on his desk.

"... Sí, eso parece. El banco central está…" He squinted and blinked rapidly, trying to clear his vision. "¿Dónde está? Necesito lentes nuevos. Ah, allí estás. Er ... La fabricación va bien ... ¿Creo?" He shook his head rapidly, blinking. "Dios mío, creo que me estoy quedando ciego."

"Alexander." Eliza's soft voice behind him made him turn, and an affectionate smile grew on his face at the sight of his beloved wife.

"Yes, my heart?"

"Why don't you come to bed, it's late." She murmured, resting her chin on Alexander's shoulder.

"I will Betsey, I promise. I just have to finish this, alright?"

Eliza sighed deeply. "But Alexandeeer, I've been chasing after your children all day! I'm tired!"

Alexander smiled and patted her hand, "Our children. And I'm almost done. Then I'll go to sleep."

"No sir." Eliza responded, taking his quill and placing it beside the inkwell. "You're comin' with me." She took his hands and all but pulled a chuckling Alexander out of his study.


	8. Broken tears

BOOM.

Eliza startled awake with a gasp. Immediately, she heard a thunderstorm raging above the house; and felt five bodies pressed snugly around her. Looking around, her face broke into a fond -and rather surprised- smile when her eyes landed on her four eldest children crowded together between her and their father. Speaking of which, the older Alexander was on the other end of the bed, arms wrapped securely and comfortingly around Angelica, their eldest daughter. Eliza sighed adoringly at her family and lied back down, gently running her fingers through James Alexander's hair and smiling when he sleepily shifted closer to her and snuggled into her night robe. Closing her eyes, Eliza was drifting back to sleep when a particularly close clap of thunder rattled the house. Groaning, she shifted and was about to press her pillow to her ears when a somewhat faint sound reached her. Sitting back up, Eliza furrowed her eyebrows and waited until the next thunderclap had passed. Sure enough, she heard the sound again, this time louder than before, coming from downstairs. It sounded like...whimpering?

Who in Heaven's name is making such an infernal racket at this hour?

Then, with a pang of pure horror, she remembered who was roomed in the floor below.

The Marquis.

"Oh no." She gasped softly to herself. Quietly detaching James' fingers from her robe and pushing back the blankets, she got out of bed and crept to the door. Carefully opening the door, Eliza stuck her head out into the hall; quickly pulling back and shutting the door when Lafayette's fear- filled whimpering instantly became louder. Whirling, she padded as quietly and quickly as she could to her husband's side of the bed. "Alexander, love, wake up." She gently shook him and watched as he slowly opened his eyes and looked up at her.

"Mm. Betsey?" He asked, voice thick with sleep. "Wha's up hon?" He sat up, careful not to disturb Angie, and blearily rubbed his eyes.

"It's-" Lafayette's high-pitched whimpering interrupted her, and Alexander stiffened. "That. Alex, your friend is down there scared half to death." Eliza whispered.

"Merde, Gilbert." Her husband uttered out, though his voice and eyes were filled with worry.

"Alexander, language."

"Sorry." Alexander carefully stood up and slipped some socks on. "I'll go see what I can do to calm him down." He looked at Eliza. "Could you stay here with the children? I might be a while."

"Yes, of course."

"Thank you. Eliza." Giving her a tired smile, he turned and quietly left the room.

Once he'd closed the door to his and Eliza's room, Alexander started walking toward the stairs. Suddenly, a massive thunderclap shook the house and he froze, forcing down the fear rising in his chest. Forcing his legs into action once again, Alexander quickened his pace and jogged down the stairs and toward Lafayette's room. He was almost there when there was another thunderclap and Lafayette went from whimpering to blood curdling screams.

This time Alexander could practically taste the Frenchman's terror.

Now sprinting, he burst into Lafayette's room, and the sight that greeted him caused his heart to stall momentarily.

Lafayette was curled into a tight ball on his bed, shaking uncontrollably, and screaming into his pillow.

"Oh shit." Alexander whispered and ran to Lafayette's side. "Hey, hey! Gil, Gilbert, look at me."

When that proved futile, Alexander shut his mouth, sat down beside his friend, and began rubbing soothing circles into his back. "You're okay Laf, you're safe. Just breathe."

Eventually Lafayette grew somewhat quieter, only whimpering and trembling, his fear scent subsiding enough for Alexander to breathe easier.

"Hey." Alexander whispered after a short silence, "You okay?"

Lafayette shook his head, "Non." He responded, voice barely a whisper.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

Lafayette swallowed back the lump in his throat and nodded, his eyes tightly shut.

"When you're ready Laf." Alexander murmured gently. "I'm not leavin' unless you want me to."

Lafayette shook his head, whimpered, and shifted closer to the Treasurer. Another thunderclap struck close to the house and caused the Frenchman to yelp and press against Alexander, shaking like a leaf.

"It's okay." The Caribbean murmured, gently running his fingers through the other man's loose hair. His own voice quivered with fear at the storm raging outside. "Heh, where'd the fearless Marquis de Lafayette I know go, eh?" He teased gently.

All Lafayette managed to do was whimper and force out a muffled "Cannons."

"Cannons?" Alexander looked down at him in confusion. "What's that got to do wi- oh."

Realization suddenly dawned on him.

He's been in two revolutions. This thunder sounds like cannons going off, that's why he's so scared. But I know there's more to it than that.

"It's more than just the thunder, isn't it?"

Lafayette nodded shakily and grabbed tightly onto Alexander's night robe at another thunderclap, fear overwhelming him. Alexander, now trembling ever so slightly as well, pulled the taller man up and wrapped his arms around him, letting him bury his face in his chest and rested his chin atop his head.

"Je suis désolé." Lafayette choked out, feeling his eyes begin to fill.

"Chut, mon frère. Ll n'est pas nécessaire de s'excuser d'avoir peur."

The former general began taking rapid, shallow breaths, desperately trying to hold in his tears.

Feeling the Frenchman's shaking grow stronger, Alexander started to rub his arm. "Let it out Laf, don't hold it in. Just let it all out." He murmured as soothingly as he could. "Tout va bien. Tu peux pleurer."

That did it for Lafayette. His friend's soothing, almost motherly tone completely destroyed his last scraps of self-control; and he let out an ugly sob.

"It hurts! E- everything hurts so much!"

"Shh. Shh. I know, I know." Alexander murmured, gently rocking the broken Frenchman as if he were a child. His heart twisted. It hurt him beyond explanation to see his brother like this.

Lafayette gripped Alexander tightly -almost as if he were trying to keep himself from falling apart at the seams- and buried his face deeper into the Caribbean's chest, his tears soaking the robe.

And all Alexander could do was hold him close, let him cry, and hum an old French lullaby.


	9. Shameful actions

After what seemed hours, Lafayette's loud, heart wrenching sobs began to grow quieter, yet he still kept a death grip on Alexander's night robe. For a while, neither man said anything, Alexander fighting to keep himself from flinching away from the storm still raging outside, and Lafayette sniffling and letting hot tears slip freely down his cheeks. Surprisingly enough, it was the Frenchman and not the Caribbean who initiated the next conversation.

"Will it ever stop hurting?"

The voice was small, a stark contrast to the man it belonged to.

Alexander stilled and closed his eyes to push away the tide of emotion that swept over him. His breath quivered and his throat tightened.

"No. No, it never will."

When the former general finally spoke, there was an unbearable amount of bitter knowledge in his voice.

Lafayette let out a long breath then slowly let go of the robe and turned to look up at his friend, as he was still pressed against him, and opened his mouth. Yet, his words faltered and faded upon seeing the emotions swirling chaotically in Alexander's eyes. Yes, he knew the man was scared of the storm raging relentlessly on the other side of the window. Why else would he be so tense and still holding onto Lafayette as if he were the only thing currently keeping him from flying into a panic attack? He knew that Alexander had always been a deeply emotional man, even with his attempt to hide the more sensitive ones from the world. Lafayette was similar, yet when he was younger, he'd always tried his best to see the world in a positive light. Now, he wasn't so sure he'd been thinking straight all those years ago. Look at him, he was broken, a glass window shattered by a stone.

Almost as if he could tell what his fellow immigrant was thinking, Alexander gave him a small smile, clearly forcing himself to appear calmer and more cheerful than he really was. "You're strong Laf. Stronger than I am. Always have been."

Lafayette huffed. "What makes you zink zat, eh?" He was tired and his accent was noticeably thicker than usual.

He immediately regretted asking.

"Cause if I was in your place, I'd have put a bullet in my head long ago. Save others the pain of havin' to deal with me."

Lafayette shot upright and stared at Alexander, his eyes wide with horror. "Non!"

The Treasurer's dull eyes gazed unblinkingly back at the Frenchman. "You've lost everything Gilbert, and even then, you kept living and used your knowledge to save yourself and find your way here. You knew you had to stay alive to fight another day." He took a deep breath. "Meanwhile, lookit me. Ha. Adams and Jefferson are right. I'm nothin' but an orphaned creole bastard born out of wedlock who's obsessed with his legacy and knows nothing of loyalty. The only reason I can keep going is because I know Eliza and the kids need me." Alexander let out a short, bitter laugh. "But hell, do they really? I mean, I haven't been there when they needed me." By now there were tears rolling steadily down Alexander's face. "I've always put work above my family, thinking it was more important than they were for some stupid reason. Then I went ahead and cheated on my wife for an entire year and paid the woman's husband to keep it a secret because I was too much of a coward to own up to my mistakes."

If it weren't for the sheer amount of self-loathing in his friend's voice and eyes, Lafayette would have been relieved that he was talking again.

"Alex-"

"No Lafayette, listen." Alexander growled shakily. "I want you to know how much of a monster I am."

"You aren't-" The Frenchman could do nothing but stare in horror, if he'd had any tears left, they'd be running down his face.

Alexander went on. "I cheated on Eliza then up and decided to write and publish a 95-page pamphlet about it because I was scared that my rivals would tell the world and ruin my reputation. They promised that they'd say nothing! I was foolish enough to think that that goddamned pamphlet would save my legacy. All I ended up doing was turning everyone against me, destroying my reputation, and losing my family!" Forget crying, Alexander was now in the middle of a massive panic attack. He could barely breathe and his voice was rising to a tortured wail, his fingernails digging into the skin of his arms.

"THEN I WENT AHEAD AND GOT THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE KILLED BECAUSE I STILL WANTED TO KEEP MY CHRIST FORSAKEN LEGACY CLEAN!"

Lafayette lunged forward and clamped a hand over the Caribbean's mouth and held his writhing body close. "That is enough Alex. You'll wake your family."

The smaller man stared up at him, tears cascading rapidly down his face, agony evident in his eyes.

"Alexander…"

The Treasurer turned away from the Frenchman and clapped his hands over his mouth, shoulders shaking, breathing erratically. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" He sobbed.

"Alex…" Lafayette tried again and this time managed to pull the Secretary of the Treasury against his chest, where he buried his face into his night robe. "Come now brother. Please, don't say those things."

The only answer he received from the man pressed against his chest were broken, hiccupping sobs and tears soaking into his shirt.

He sighed and gently started rubbing the other immigrant's back. "Écoute Alex, je ne suis pas d'accord avec ce que tu as fait. Je ne sais pas si je ne serai jamais d'accord. Mais tout cela est dans le passé; et nous faisons tous des erreurs. Eh bien, certaines personnes plus que d'autres, mais nous sommes juste des êtres humains, les erreurs font partie de la vie. Le mieux que vous puissiez faire est de laisser aller et d'aller de l'avant. Comme j'essaie de le faire moi-même. Vous pouvez apprendre de vos erreurs et les corriger, vous êtes déjà sur la bonne voie. Eliza t'a pardonné, correct?"

Alexander gave a small nod and buried his face deeper into Lafayette's robe.

"Voir? Tu n'as pas à te blâmer continuellement, mon frère. Vous m'avez dit une fois que je devais apprendre à dire au revoir, et maintenant je vous le dis. N'abandonne pas. Apprenez de vos erreurs et pardonnez-vous. Si vous ne le faites pas pour vous-même, faites-le au moins pour ceux qui se soucient de vous. Vous n'êtes pas seul dans cela et ne le sera jamais. Je promets."

Alexander let out a long breath, gradually relaxing.

"That's it. Good dog." Lafayette murmured cheekily, earning an amused snort from Alexander.

"I'm a coyote you duck."

"HAWK. I don't say 'quack'."

"You just did."

"...Mon dieu Alex. You are insufferable, you know that right?"

"Absolutely."


	10. Snow war

"Yo, Ned. Walk with me?" Alexander gestured to the doctor, cocking his head toward the door.

Edward looked over at him and stood up from the couch, where he'd been watching Lafayette entertaining Alexander's children with stories from the battlefield. "Alright." He nodded and stood to put on his coat and gloves.

Alexander nodded with a smile and held the door open for his brother before passing through himself and closing it.

"So?" Edward asked. "Where to?"

"This way." Alexander jerked his thumb to the right. "I just wanna talk."

Edward dropped into step beside the former treasurer. "As you wish, dear brother." He murmured.

The two of them walked in silence for a while, taking in the beauty and silence of their whitened world, each thinking their own thoughts. Then Alexander spoke. "Do you remember the first time you saw snow?" His voice was soft, as if he didn't wish to disturb the winter stillness.

A small smile grew on Edward's face as he recalled the memory. "Yeah." He whispered. "It was shortly after I first came to the mainland to study at King's." His hazel eyes twinkled. "I barely even knew what winter was; but suddenly, there I was, a kid from the Carribean, staring in wonder at this stuff everyone called 'snow'." He chuckled. "I went in it and got cold pretty fast, but I still wanted to stay out." He looked at Alexander, who'd been keeping pace with him, a small smile on his face. "You?"

The lawyer remained silent for a few moments, but gradually, a fond smile spread across his face. "I was with the squad. Gilbert and I were both like kids in a sugar cane field. I was in it for about two minutes then wanted to go inside again." He admitted with a shrug, laughing.

"Oh man." Edward laughed along. "Guess us islanders aren't much for the cold, are we?"

"No way." Alexander shook his head, giggling.

Edward took a step closer to Alexander and draped an arm over his shoulders. "I'm glad I have you as my brother." He murmured, eyes soft. "I don't know what'd I'd do without you."

The war vet grinned affectionately. "And I you, Ned." He stopped walking and simply stared at Edward, eyes shining. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. You know that, right?" He murmured.

Edward smiled tightly, emotion tightening his throat. "Yeah." He croaked.

Alexander nodded, a confused look on his face. "Why're you crying?"

"I- I'm not!" Edward turned and hid his face, wiping his eyes.

Alexander rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Okay Doc."

Edward tsked and elbowed him in the ribs. "Oh, shush."

The lawyer grinned. "'Fraid I can't do that, Neddy." He then turned around, thinking he heard Eliza calling him.

The doctor gave a crooked smile. This was his chance. He scooped up a handful of snow and chucked it at Alexander, who turned around only to get a faceful of snow.

He squawked and fell onto his rear. "Ah! Cold! Cold! Cold!" He shook his head and wiped the snow off. Then he looked up at the chortling Edward. "You little shit!" He growled with a grin and sprung to his feet.

Edward started running. "Crap!" He laughed.

Alexander chased him, hurtling snowballs at the doctor as he ran. "You'll pay for that!"

"Not if I can outrun you!"

"Go ahead and try! I'll catch up eventually!"

Edward and Alexander's playful bantering drew Lafayette and the rest of the Hamilton clan to come out of the house.

Lafayette's eyes sparked with mischief and he darted back into the house.

He re-emerged in his winter gear, sprinted off the porch, and barreled toward Alex and Ned.

Alexander caught sight of him, shrieked, and ran another direction.

He ran right into Hercules.

The tailor took one look over the lawyer's shoulder, saw the Lafayette and Edward tag- team, promptly picked up Alexander, slung him over his shoulder, whirled on his heel, and booked it.

Eliza laughed aloud watching this magnificent spectacle arise. "Run, Mulligan, keep my husband safe!"

The tailor winked at her, leapt over a snow mound, and landed in his grizzly form.

Alexander yelped, shifting, and clawed his way onto the bear's back, ducking to avoid Lafayette and Edward's snowballs. "Go, Herc, go!" He barked.

Hercules charged forward.

"HEY!" Edward shrilled. "Not fair!"

Alexander looked back at him. "All's fair in peace and war!"

Lafayette scoffed and glanced at Edward. "Why do we not give them a taste of their own medicine?"

Edward's eyes flashed. He smirked. "I like how you think." He nodded and, with a leap, shifted into a clouded leopard.

Lafayette scooped up two snowballs and jumped into the sky as a hawk, snowballs in his talons.

Alexander happened to look back. He screeched in surprise as Lafayette sent a snowball hurtling straight into his face.

Hercules slid to a stop, shook Alexander off, changed back into a human, and mercilessly began firing snowballs at Edward and Gilbert.

The two of them fell back, sputtering. Lafayette stared up at the tailor and smirked. "This is war!"

Alexander grinned and abruptly donned his General posture. "TROOP GRANGE, FORWARD!" He bellowed.

"Sir, yes sir!" Came the chorused voices of his children.

Lafayette and Edward gawked.

Edward turned and ran. "I SURRENDER!"

Lafayette gazed at him with a sigh. "I'll never surrender!" He jeered playfully.

"NEITHER SHALL WE!"

Lafayette skittered sideways at the startling voices of four other war vets: Tench Tighlman, Richard Kidder Meade, James McHenry, and Nathanial Pendleton.

While Tench helped the Frenchman to his feet, Alexander glared lightly at Pendleton. "TRAITOR!"

"We shall see, Hamilton." He replied with a smirk. "We shall see."

Alexander grinned and scooped up a snowball. "Indeed we shall." He growled. "SONS OF LIBERTY, ATTACK!"

And so began the most epic snowball fight of the decade.


End file.
